


Venial Sin

by Xekstrin



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-15 04:44:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8043040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xekstrin/pseuds/Xekstrin
Summary: Plotless widowtracer dealing with the idea that Lena used to know her, before.





	Venial Sin

 

Most of the women she’d been with were RAF, women who were up for a roll in the hay and then a jog in the morning and a kiss farewell, dodging rules about fraternization in government buildings and training barracks. Lena didn’t sleep with women indiscriminately; there was an element of covertness she required, mutual understanding that there wouldn’t be a repeat performance. Nobody who couldn’t keep a secret. And usually, not civilians.

Amélie was nothing like those women.

“Skin’s cold,” Lena noted, bluntly, but not with any aggression or cruelty. “Bit like what I imagine fuckin’ a corpse would be like.”

Amélie’s breasts were heavy, nipple pucking under a quick swipe of her thumb. Responsive, even through that pervasive chill. Heat never transferred from skin to skin, not with this woman. It was like reverse convection, the longer she stood there the colder Lena became until her teeth were chattering, limbs shaking.

Well, it would be nice if she were actually shaking from the temperature.

Amélie cupped her face, turned it upwards and upwards until Lena was looking into those hawk-gold eyes and felt like something grounded, for the first time in her life, feeling like the ant and not the one soaring above. 

“Are you afraid?”

The words left her lips with no inflection. Amélie spoke the way passionless women played instruments. The air around her had that same underlying sense of leaving the room unsatisfied, the violin left to cough up dust for another week, the piano latched firmly shut.

Someone was playing the right tune in her head, sure, but it was not the way a human should speak.

Lena shook her head. Then paused. Then shook her head again, harder this time, her eyes closed.

Sharp nails traced around the puckered skin on Lena’s chest, where metal grafted onto her ribs where an emergency surgery had freed her from the timestream, grounded her to reality. 

If Amélie wanted to kill her, she needed to do it in one clean stroke. The usual arsenal of an assassin was limited due to Lena’s disability-slash-superpower. 

Strangulation took too long. Lena could reverse time and draw her pistol and shoot Amélie through her skull. Same with stabbing. Arterial blood drains fast but again, Lena was faster. 

Click.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Amélie’s nails had found the plating, the grooves in the metal. Her nails naturally catching on the imperfections felt more like they were being hammered in, reverberating in Lena’s chest. 

The taller woman smiled, twisted. “Do you like it? Fucking a dead woman.”

“Not really something I give a lot of thought to, honestly.”

“But you just said you did.” She bent forward, kissing Lena’s cheek, pressing her firmly against the door to her room. “You said you imagined it.”

“I--”

“Undo your pants for me, Lena.”

Lena prided herself on being something of a gallant knight. You know, riding on a steel horse, scarf flapping in the wind, beautiful woman on each arm. 

Maybe she was getting her archetypes confused.

Either way she fell onto her back, right there on the floor, and Amélie had her knees on either side of Lena’s head, and Lena kept thinking about how much she’d rather be using her hands because she was a doer, a goer, a getter, a fucker, etc, etc, she drove the action, she wouldn’t let a beautiful girl feel unloved, she--

She wanted this--

“Are you afraid?”

Amélie pushed her bangs back out of her face with the same gentleness as before, when she had plucked the aviators from Lena’s face and kissed her with such chaste, sincere affection that Lena had been knocked breathless.

“Yes. Amélie--”

“That’s not my name.”

The clear arousal, the scent of it so close, made her chest beat even harder. It would take a push up onto her elbows and her head angled back, but Lena could reach. If she tried, very hard. If the hand on her head wasn’t so vise-tight, keeping her locked in place.

Tears pricked at her eyes, surprising her as much as her own hunger surprised her, this base need that ached to be satisfied. Her hand slunk under the waistband of her jeans, fingers finding herself desperately wet. The first stroke was white-hot, already so close just from the promise of being touched. “What... what should I call you?”

“I don’t see a need to call me anything. I...” Some of the weight on Lena’s chest lifted, Amélie retreating in an instant. “You’re crying.”

Furious with herself, Lena rubbed her cheeks against her shoulders to dry them. A hard feat when her shirt had been tossed aside a long time ago. 

Amélie got to her feet, the straps of her short tight dress going back over her shoulders. She shook out her long hair, combing fingers through it as Lena struggled up to her knees, torn between arousal, and anger, and fear, and agony.

“I thought-- I don’t know why, I thought-- maybe you, maybe this could--” Lena dragged both palms up her face, rubbing furiously at her eyes. 

“Obviously,” Amélie said, each word drawled out slowly. “There’s been a miscommunication here.”

“You-- you can’t look at me and tell me you aren’t her,” Lena said, still stammering as she reached blindly for her shirt to shrug it back on. “You can’t tell me that you’re here just because--”

“I thought we could have a bit of fun if we’re forced to work together day in and day out.”

Instead of putting her shirt on, Lena furiously hurled it at Amélie. The other woman caught it, tossing it aside without breaking eye contact. 

“Get out!” Lena shouted, standing up, trembling. “Get out! Get the fuck out!”

“Already on my way,” Amélie reassured her, ducking down the hallway, heels clutched in one hand.


End file.
